Making You Love Me
by DefyingMyGravity
Summary: How far does Dick go to please Bruce? Why does he do it? And how hard does he try?


**Disclaimer: No own, no profit, no sue.**

Making You Love Me

"Dick, will you come in here?" Bruce's voice called from the living room. Dick winced just slightly as he stood, but his voice was still obliviously cheery when he called back.

"Coming, Bruce!" Dick said before making his way down the stairs from his second floor bedroom. He peeked around the stairs at Bruce as silently as possible. Bruce was sitting on the couch; not in the way someone would when relaxing, but stiff and straight-backed. He was wearing a dark grey suit, which meant he would probably be leaving for work in a minute. His mouth was set in a hard line, and his brows were scrunched as he looked at what was in his hands. But the thing that made Dick want to turn away and run back upstairs was the large golden envelope that was in them.

That envelope was Dick's latest report card, and he already knew what was on it. Math- 95, Social Studies- 100, Science- 96, P.E.- 100, Music- 98, Language Arts- 92. All perfect A's and then that one B that was going to ruin his life. It was only one point away! That pop quiz his teacher had given of all past vocabulary was what had done this. He just hadn't been able to remember it all, and he'd gotten a C and ruined his A average for the grading period.

He begged to be able to retake the quiz; she said that the retesting policy was only for people who failed. He demanded extra-credit work; she told him that she didn't believe in giving extra credit because the student should have done well on the original work in the first place. She showed him his overall grade for the grading period; that 92. And then, of all the things to say, she told him that a B was a very good grade.

Dick must have stood there too long in his panic, because Bruce looked straight up at him and called him over. Dick moved slowly out from his hiding place, feeling like a four-year-old caught playing where he wasn't supposed to. He stood before Bruce, who had dropped his eyes back to the piece of paper he had taken out of the golden envelope.

"Explain this B to me," Bruce ordered him. Dick took a deep breath and went into the rehearsed explanation of the surprise quiz, the C, and his inability to retake it or make it up. When he finished, Dick held his breath as he waited for Bruce to speak. Bruce leaned forward and put the report card on the low coffee table, his finger on the dreaded B. He looked up at Dick and spoke firmly.

"This B is not a smart person's work, Dick. It isn't good enough," Bruce said, looking up at the boy in front of him.

"Do you understand?" He asked. Dick swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, Bruce. I'll try harder."

"You need to do a lot more than try. And I want this Math grade up a bit, too."

"Yes, Bruce. I'll work more."

Bruce slipped the paper back into the envelope and stood with a nod. As he made his way to the door, Bruce spoke over his shoulder.

"I'm going to work. We'll talk about this more at dinner." And Dick replied, even though Bruce was already out the door and gone.

"Yes, Bruce. I'll be better."

Dick went slowly up the stairs back to his bedroom, hands in his pockets and head down. When he got to his room, he lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

It was always like this. When he got his report card today, Bruce only thought of what could be improved. He didn't mention the fact that Dick had two perfect 100's this time. When they went out on patrol last night, Bruce told him he wasn't paying enough attention. He didn't mention the fact that Dick had already caught a thug trying to mug an old lady and stopped a potential hit and run. When they had busted the Joker a week ago, Bruce told him that he needed to do more than just get captured by the bad guys. He didn't even know that Dick had done it so all the Joker's men would focus on him so Batman could fight the Joker without interference.

It was always the same. Not smart enough, not doing enough, not good enough. Bruce had been telling him that for so long now that it had to be true. He kept trying harder, working more, and being better, but that still wasn't good enough for Bruce. But the worst part wasn't what he said or did; it was when Dick would look him in the eyes and see his disappointment.

It made him want to scream and cry and tear out his hair to see such disappointment from Bruce. The one man Dick looked up to, cared about, respected, loved. And he couldn't even be what Bruce wanted.

Dick didn't notice the tears that fell silently from his eyes to drip down his face and soak his pillow. He didn't notice the knock on his door two hours after Bruce had left. He didn't notice the creak of the door as it opened. But he did notice the gasp that drew itself from the lips of the man who entered.

Dick sat up swiftly and rubbed his face roughly, looking away.

"What, Alfred," Dick asked bluntly, still not looking at the man standing in the doorway. It seemed that Alfred had to take a moment to find his voice.

"Master Richard, Master Bruce has called to tell you that he will be unable to come home in time for dinner. He wants to reschedule your talk with him about grades for tomorrow," Alfred informed him after a slight hesitation. Dick still wouldn't look at him.

"Okay. Send dinner up whenever it's ready, Alfred," Dick said, wanting to hit himself as his voice shook ever so slightly and cracked on the butler's name. He waved a hand in the hope it would signal his request for Alfred to leave. When the door creaked to a quiet close without another word from Alfred, Dick collapsed back onto his bed.

He spoke allowed to himself, either uncaring or oblivious to the fact that he was.

"I'll try harder, work more, and be better, Bruce. And maybe, when I am good enough, I'll finally be able to call you Dad."

**A/N: Currently just a one-shot because school sucks. I may actually turn it into something more if I can find a Beta and my Muse decides to come off hiatus. Just don't get your hopes up, because I really don't want to let you down.**


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